I could question how he knows, but he wouldn’t have held me like that this morning, or stolen the oatmeal bag if he hadn’t at least guessed we were mates.
I was stupid to think that Timber wouldn’t connect the dots and he’d stay blissfully ignorant of all the other layers of fuckery I’ve created.
His chair rattles as he moves, and I pray to the God of Motion Sickness that he stays there. But no. Because panic splashes across his face and he slides closer.
“You can’t just leave. There’s no reason to. Didn’t you make some kind of agreement with Marilyn to stay until the end of the season? You can’t just end that.”
“I’ll talk to her and get it sorted, so don’t worry about it.”
“Luke…” The way his voice dips goes straight to my pussy. “Do you really think I won’t worry?”
Wow, I knew it was going to be bad, but I didn’t think it would feel like my heart is being put through a meat grinder.
It wasn’t like we were breaking up or anything. From the outside, I’m just the guy who cooks his meals. Except there’s no mistaking the pain that beats through his gaze.
He goes silent, but he’s still edging closer on that dumb wheely chair.
My omega side wants him to fight, to try to stop me. Or he could at least get a bit growly and possessive and do the whole thrust me up against a wall thing that he’s so good at.
He just twists his fingers together in front of him, and I watch and wait to see what he’ll say.
“Why don’t I help you move? Can I do that?”
My mind instantly goes to my nest, and a shiver of pleasure hums through me. What would he do if he saw how many of his shirts I have? How would he react to my beanbag chair that’s probably more slick than beans at this point?
God, even just the thought of having Timber stand in my nest has slick building in me, and I shuffle in my seat.
“I think it’s better if I leave when you’re at your next set of away games,” I say, avoiding his gaze.
He rolls his chair right up to me, looking at me with puppy dog eyes, and I’m absolutely falling for it.
“Just let me do something. One last thing,” he says.
The market was supposed to be our ‘one last thing’. That was our goodbye.
“How about I cook you dinner? Isn’t it normal to say thank you once a job is over?”
I shake my head, my earrings clinking off each other. “You can’t taste it, so why would you bother?” I ask, repeating his question from the day I moved in.
“I can still follow a recipe. You’ve cooked for me all this time, so I’ll return the favor.”
I haven’t seen him look so hopeful before. After everything he said about never wanting an omega, this feels too close to courting. I don’t want to get wrapped up in thoughts like that; that’s how I got myself stuck on him in the first place.
I know I’m not imagining his feelings, or mine, but life would be so much easier if he didn’t reach for me and take my hand. He eases me toward him, and I unfold my arms so that my fingers disappear in his meaty paw.
His kisses and strokes in the restaurant had been so rushed when he thought I was Ollie. Now, actually feeling the brush of his fingers nearly makes my eyes roll as my pussy clenches.
“Kane suggested you come to a game with us. You and your sister. After that, you can both come back here, and I’ll cook for us.”
Alarm bells go off as soon as he said,Kane suggested. It’s such a bad idea on so many levels. I shouldn’t even consider it. I’m going to have to rip that alpha a new one after all his crap about trusting him and having no expectations.
“I don’t think Ollie can make it,” I say, and his face falls. Guilt stabs at me, but I totally deserve the twisting ache in my stomach.
“Oh, okay…” he says, his head drooping, making everything worse. “I wanted both of you to watch me and Kane play,” he says, turning the puppy look up to eleven.
How can I say no to that face?
“I’ll see what I can do,” I say stiffly, trying not to grimace as I lie straight at him. I mean, I lie to him every time I see him, but that’s kind of a base lie. This is the high note, where I don’t have any excuses.
